


Shining, Far Apart

by ellacj



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2470805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellacj/pseuds/ellacj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weeping with a silent heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shining, Far Apart

**Author's Note:**

> A short piece based on my favorite Chinese legend, the Cowherd and the Weaving Maid. The lyrics featured at the end are from a song I sang in my fourth grade music festival that I somehow still remember.

The day Regina meets Emma is one of the happiest of her life.

As the daughter of the Queen Goddess and weaver of the clouds, she was never able to leave her kingdom in the sky without sneaking out. And she does, each full moon. She goes down to the world below looking for something fun to do, something to take her mind off of the fact that her eternal life brings her no joy or freedom.

On one such excursion, Regina comes across a small farm. There’s not a man in sight, but a second look shows her a small figure sitting alone in a pasture, staring up at the stars. She’s not sure what compels her to do it, but Regina starts walking toward the figure with a large smile. “Would you like some company?” she asks softly, sitting down on the grass beside the person.

The person turns her head and Regina’s breath is stolen from her throat as she does. She’s _beautiful_ , this girl. Hair of gold tumbling around her shoulders in bouncy curls and eyes the most beautiful shade of green Regina has ever seen. She smiles, and Regina has to make a conscious effort to keep her jaw shut. “Yeah, I guess company wouldn’t be so bad,” she says in a rich, hearty voice.

They don’t speak at all after that; content just sitting together in comfortable silence. When finally the sky begins to turn orange and the girl is dozing on the ground beside her, Regina reluctantly closes her eyes and transports herself back to the palace in the sky.

She didn’t even ask the girl’s name.

She’s smacking herself on the forehead when she goes back the next night, because how is she ever supposed to find this girl again if she doesn’t know her name? But as she walks, fortune must surely favor her, for the girl is again sitting alone in the pasture. Regina sits down beside her without a word, and they smile at each other as they look at the stars. “I’m Regina,” she says quietly after a long while.

“Emma.”

They’re married a year later.

And after another year, their son is born. Regina stills weaves the clouds as is her duty, but ever since their marriage and the ray of sunshine that is Henry, her clouds have become fewer and far between. She wants the sky to be as happy and warm as she is.

Henry is six years old when Cora comes for her.

Furious that Regina has married a mortal and is neglecting her duties, Cora takes her away from her family and locks her in the palace to weave the clouds in solitude. Regina cries for seven days and seven nights, never leaving her loom as she weaves the clouds into the sky.

She wants the sky to be as sad and cold as she is.

It’s two years before a figure bursts in through her window, a smaller figure hugging tightly to her back. “Regina,” Emma gasps, gently setting an eight-year-old Henry on the floor and running to envelope her in a hug. “We found you.”

“Emma, what are you doing here?”

“I came to be with you. I never want to be without you, Regina, don’t you get it? I love you.”

Regina smiles, taking both of Emma’s hands and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “I love you too.”

“Hello, Emma dear,” a smooth, silky voice comes from the corner. Cora steps out of the shadows by the wall, a vicious smirk playing at her lips.

Emma takes Henry’s hand and moves to stand in front of him. “What do you want?”

Cora pushes her lips into a pout. “I hate how you make me into the villain. I simply want what’s best for my daughter. And I’m afraid you just aren’t it.” She raises her hand, and with an almost casual flick of her wrist, Regina’s world splits down the middle – literally. The entire world comes apart at the seams, right between her and Emma, a river of stars erupting where their hands were joined just moments ago.

Regina screams for her, for Henry, but her voice is lost in the roaring of the wind and the splitting of the very world beneath their feet. When finally it ceases, Emma and Henry are out of sight and the castle has rebuilt its walls around her. “Why?” she says to Cora, her voice hoarse. She can’t cry. All her tears are gone.

“Weave the clouds, Regina.”

And Regina does.

She never stops weaving; she weaves until her fingers are raw and bleeding and bony from malnourishment, but still she weaves. She wants everyone below to know exactly how dark and gloomy she feels on the inside, exactly how cold, exactly how it feels to think there will never be a ray of sunshine like Henry ever again.

It’s the seventh day of the seventh month, a year and nine months since Cora split the world and the sun disappeared behind the dark gray clouds when she sees it out her window. Hundreds, thousands of magpies, all flying together, all flying to the same place. With a frown, Regina stands up from her loom for the first time in months to look. What she sees brings tears to her eyes.

The magpies are flying to the river of stars between them, huddling tightly together, thousands upon thousands of them forming a bridge. And there, on the other side, Regina knows Emma is waiting for her. She throws down her weaving and leaps out the window, running as fast as she can to the magpie bridge and the love she thought she lost.

Emma meets her in the middle of the bridge, throwing her arms around her and whispering soft nonsense in her ear as she kisses her over and over. “I thought I’d never see you again,” she gasps through tears streaming in identical rivers down her face. “I thought we’d lost you forever.”

“You’re never going to get rid of me,” Regina teases, though her heart isn’t in it as her knees feel weak and her head spins.

And then there’s Henry, standing beside Emma with wet eyes a foot higher off the ground than they were the day the world split, and Regina pulls him into her arms and holds him tight. “Don’t you go growing up without me,” she whispers.

“I would never.”

_High above, the cowherd star_

Unfortunately, kids have no control over these types of things, and Henry does indeed grow up without her.

_Weaving maid so bright, so far_

Every year on the seventh day of the seventh month, the magpies form their bridge across the stars and every year Henry grows taller and taller.

_Each alone, through the years_

By the sixth year, when Regina hugs him, she has to lean her head against his chest and remember the way he used to wrap his tiny arms around her legs.

_Freely flow the tears_

Every year she thanks the magpies because without them, she’d never see her family.

_Shining, far apart_

Every year when she kisses Emma goodbye she’s terrified Emma won’t come back next year.

_Weeping with a silent heart_

Every year, Emma does.


End file.
